


Soulbound

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Dark Magic, F/M, Kidnapping, Magic, Matter of Life and Death, Reunions, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Meklavar is mere feet away from stealing back the Jewel of Jitan from her family's greatest enemy. She isn't sure how she's going to get an opening, but in her heartfelt wish, an unexpected (but welcome) opportunity presents itself.Until it all goes wrong.





	Soulbound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnchoredTether](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnchoredTether/gifts).



> Written for Pikelavar week over on Tumblr!

There is it; the Jewel of Jitan.

Meklavar’s heart races, each beat pounding slowly and deliberately in her ear like a giant’s footsteps. Excessive sweating has always been an issue for her, but in this moment she curses how gross the skin under her gloves is despite the coolness of the cave, while nerves flutter about in her gut. Here, in a few moments, she’ll finally have her family’s heirloom back. She can’t afford to make any mistakes.

Rising from her spot behind a crate, she counts two of Countess Covara’s guards and knows a third roams on patrol; the dark clothing and red crest is unmistakable. How idiotic for her not to make the connection between her father’s chief rival and the rapid organization of the Black Fang before following this lead to their hideout.

She tightens the grip on her axe, the cloth of her gloves blessedly still dry enough to do that. It’s enough if she needs to do battle. Though she has had years to dream of this day, Meklavar realizes she is severely underprepared for this moment.

Why hadn’t she asked for help from her companions? Surely a year was not too long a time to forget their incredible defeat of the Coranic Dragon. Block had been so eager to go home, Valyun accompanied Jiro in search of his brother Shiro, and Pike...

Pike. The insufferable fool still makes her blush like a lovesick maiden - which, Meklavar supposed she technically was - whenever she thinks of the soft kiss he bestowed upon her lips when they parted.

_“I’ll see you again sooner than you think,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I just have one little job to do then I’d love to see your home._

_“To meet my family, right?” she’d pressed, thought in jest. “And not to rob us blind?”_

_He bristles. “I’m not a thief!”_

_“You’re right,” she said smugly. “A thief would know what a trap looks like.”_

_He struggled for words, his mouth flapping about uselessly. “You’re lucky you’re cute!” he finally said._

She hadn’t expected to be apart for this long, though it isn’t anything she can help now. Meklavar is on her own for this and she will get the Jewel back home where it belongs, no matter what.

But patience is something Meklavar has never had in spades. Already she’s been waiting for what feels like hours, made worse by her treasured family heirloom resting elegantly on a pedestal next to a large stone table - only yards away from where she hides.

Her leg is numb, fallen asleep in the long wait. It’s simply an annoyance as far as pain goes, but she’ll need her mobility because, as Pike would say, her window of opportunity could come at any time.

Meklavar shifts in her tiny hiding spot, doing what she can to stretch and relieve her limbs in this limited space and--

That isn’t stone that bumps into her back.

“Hey,” Pike whispers. “Come here to look at all the pretty rocks?”

The suddenness of the conversation after hours on edge breaks her. Her mind registers Pike’s voice - how could she ever forget the way he speaks to her with genuine interest in her skills and quest - but her body reacts on instinct. She shrieks - or tries to at least. Pike’s hand covers her mouth, the metal jewelry on his fingers leaving a gross metallic taste on her lips.

So her shriek turns into a muffled, “MMMMHMHMM!”

“Shhhh,” he hisses urgently. “I dunno what possessed you to sneak into the lair of your family’s greatest enemy in that armor. You’d make a terrible thief.”

Fresh anger warms her ears. Meklavar whips around, Pike’s hand slipping from her face - a dull clunk sounds as the horns of her helmet hit the rings on his finger, earning a hiss of pain from the actual thief between the two of them as he sucks on the offended knuckles. Any sympathy she has for him is buried under her fumes.

“What are _you_ doing here then?” she fires back with a hushed whisper. “It’s been a _year_ , Pike. Where have you been?”

Pike’s childish scowl turns into a more sobering, thin line. “On a job. I didn’t think a _genius_ would be dumb enough to waltz right in here. You need to get out of here _right now_.”

“I’m not leaving without the Jewel of Jitan,” she insists. “You know what it means to me - what it means to my family.”

His tail twitches in agitation, ears turning, listening. “Quiznak,” he says, eyes flickering with unmistakable fear. He meets her gaze, and Meklavar’s heart breaks at the sorrow he projects before he speaks, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Meklavar says before she can really think it over. They’ve traveled together far too long, she knows his fears and secrets - and he knows hers. “What are you plan--”

Pike gathers her into his arms. For a heartbeat it's nice - the way he holds her - as if nothing in this world can rip them apart; face nuzzling into his chest. Meklavar missed his companionship so much. She wants to apologize for their rough meeting and ask where he’s been and how he fared since parting.

“Please forgive me.” He rips off her helmet and his claws dig uncomfortably - though not painfully - into her arm.

He stands, and she rises with him; axe clattering to the floor. Now exposed to the guards she spied on not moments before, her heart leaps into her throat; what is Pike _doing_?

A job.

Meklavar freezes in fear. Oh _Ancients,_ Pike is employed with Covara and he’s going to use his position to weasel their way out of this.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Meklavar knows that lifeless and dreary tone anywhere. Closing her eyes, she swallows hard to reign in her shuddering breaths; better to do it while her face is flush against Pike’s chest than staring into the face of the woman who prefers her dead.

She’d been so, so close to getting her family’s priceless heirloom back. Meklavar doesn’t know what Pike thinks he’s doing - she chooses to trust that he wouldn’t do this without reason; she wants to believe he’s as good a person as she remembers, that their adventures together didn’t amount to nothing, that their relationship means something, that he meant his preemptive apology.

“Seems your gut was right, Your Countessship,” Pike says. Any other time Meklavar might tell him that wasn’t a real term, but she’s hardly in a position to correct his showmanship. “There was a threat to the Jewel after all. Shall I take her to the dungeon for you?”

Rough hands grab at her arms and she stumbles away from the false sense of security in Pike. Meklavar is barely aware of her strained biceps, when a soft, manicured hand - _not Pike_ \- cups her chin.

“No,” Covara says. “I’ll give you further instructions once I’ve dealt with her.”

Pike’s sharp intake of breath doesn’t escape her ears, and Meklavar’s stomach twists into knots. Already this has taken a turn for the worse.

“Meklavar Forestguard,” Covara says slowly, enunciating each syllable with more hate than the last. Long nails threaten to break skin and a cold thumb presses more purposefully against her throat; will she cut off her breath right here and now?

“You always were a nosy child, much like the rest of your family,” Covara muses. “I’d hoped to hunt you down after securing the Jewel’s secrets, but now it can’t be helped.”

“The Jewel of Jitan and it’s secrets are not yours,” Meklavar seethes. “They don’t belong to anyone - without it the Nightmares will return before long and--”

“Let them come.”

The admission weakens her knees, though she hardly stands on her own anymore. “You can’t - you can’t _mean_ that,” Meklavar protests. “They’ll saturate this land and kill everyone!”

Meklavar shivers as Covara’s slender fingers brush gently across her cheeks; the touch far too intimate for her liking. The woman towers over her, looking down on her almost hungrily.

That’s when she sees the red glint in her eyes, an evil Meklavar once hoped to only know from the safe pages of a book.

Covara is too far gone to be saved; already enthralled by the very Demon King the Jewel of Jitan keeps locked away.

“I can control them,” Covara states cooly. “I need only more power, more knowledge. Knowledge that the Jewel of Jitan will grant me and power that it’s guardian will provide me.”

“No!” Meklavar shrieks, tugging on her captors for any glint of freedom. She knows enough of the ancient rituals. Covara intends to drain Meklavar’s life force to unlock the power of the Jewel of Jitan.

She happens a glimpse of Pike, standing solitary off to the side. Body rigid, his face is etched in shock; eyes wide. He keeps the rapid rise and fall of his chest barely contained, but Meklavar knows his fear - this is far worse than he’d bargained for.

He laughs nervously. “Surely she can’t cause much trouble now that you know she’s here. There’s no need for this,” he pleads.

“I did not hire you for your opinion,” Covara says curtly. She turns to other mercenaries. “Take her.”

With a jerk, Meklavar is pulled towards the very object she seeks to liberate. It brings her no joy now, only a rising panic in her heart.

“You can’t control them!” she yells, doing all she can to drag her feet - curse her short stature! “They only answer completely to the Demon King - you’re being played for a fool, just like the dark mages of the past!”

Stone slams hard against the back of her head. Meklavar’s head swims in a fuzzy cloud, vision disjointed as her back bends sharply backwards. Iron shackles clink resoundly around her wrists. With a quick gasp, she struggles aimlessly, kicking at the hands that work to grab and bind her legs to the other end of the stone table.

Covara’s footsteps ring louder as she approaches, while the first of Meklavar’s ankles is chained down. “Other mages made the mistake of giving in to their greed. I simply wish to study and enjoy the company of these beautiful creatures,” she says as she stands before the altar. The chains offer little movement to see anything other than Covara’s uncaring face.

“I wonder,” Covara airs as she brushes a strand of hair out of Meklavar’s eyes, “what kind of creature of the night you will become when I raise your body.”

“It won’t work,” Meklavar begs, because it’s all she has left at her disposal. Pike won’t be able to do a thing, not with the power that spills out from the mad woman’s fingers - only a small taste of what Meklavar knows she is capable of. “Please. Trust me, it _will_ backfire on you.”

“Perhaps you’ll be a fiend like your father.”

The next breath is hard to take. “Wh-what?” Meklavar hasn’t seen her family in a long time, but surely Covara hasn’t-- “You’re lying,” she accuses, blood simmering to a boil with every tick. She doesn’t want to believe it. Last she was home, her mother and father and brother were working to soothe the darkening forest in the absence of the Jewel of Jitan. 

If they were dead then the forest was lost.

And so was she.

The response is a low chuckle, the first real emotion Covara has shown. “He proved more useful in death than in life. I think you will be more like your mother; a gargoyle, cunning and fierce in the skies. You will be a good leader for the Demon King’s army.”

“You’re a monster,” Meklavar seethes. Never once had she stopped to consider her family succumbing to the dark creatures in the forest, Covara _must_ be lying.

She has to be lying. Otherwise Meklavar fears heartbreak may kill her if Covara doesn’t.

Covara places a hand gently on Meklavar’s chestplate; deceptively soft and kind. “Yes,” she says softly - longingly. “I suppose that will be for the best if I am to be in their company.”

Meklavar’s breath hitches as a soft purple glow emanates from the hand on her chest.

“Now,” Covara says, the stroking of her skin feeling like slime. “Offer your quintessence to me, child. Provide me the power to call them forth.”

Meklavar screams. It’s as if a thousand nails punch into her skin from the same direction, breath taken from her lungs like a swing of a hammer. Her body arches back and her limbs wail, stretched out and strained to the point it’s nearly unbearable.

Slowly she loses the fight within as life drains from her body.

With a thud, her head hits the stone altar. Meklavar gasps, body in shock as her energy returns all at once. The dull pain is nothing compared to what Covara had been doing - but, Meklavar wonders as her vision comes into focus, why did she stop?

“Sellswords are not what they used to be,” Covara says. “You are a foolish little boy.”

Covara stands above her still, but through her stomach is the gold tip of a blade Meklavar recognizes.

Pike stands behind her, eyes narrowed dangerously as he holds the hilt of the short sword. “Not so foolish as to continue serving you when I can save my friend. Let her _go_ ,” he demands.

The anger and seriousness of his tone catches Meklavar off guard. Never has he sounded less like a thief and more like the assassin he persistently claims to be.

Meklavar believes it for the first time.

But no amount of athletic skill will save him from Covara. Her heart skips a beat as she realizes the danger that he’s put himself in for her sake - all for naught.

“Pike! Run!” she shouts, for whatever good it will do him. She can’t see him die, it would be the final twisting dagger after hearing her family’s possible fate.

A single eyebrow rises skeptically, his face back to it’s friendly and goofy self. Pike, you idiot, there’s no _time._

“What are you talking about I-- AH!”

“Pike!” Meklavar screams as Covara turns in place inhumanly fast, clasping Pike by his throat and lifting him off the ground, leaving his feet to dangle in the air; his hands wrapped around Covara’s in an attempt to free himself - to no avail.

“Such ferocity will make for delicious quintessence…”

“Don’t you touch him!” Meklavar growls, pulling at the chains with all her might. Her fate may as well be sealed, but she can still do what she can to save him.

Covara looks upon her with a soulless gaze; a scientist examining her experiment. “The boy means much to you?”

The observation sends more of a chill down Meklavar’s spine than the threat of her own death, because now Pike has Covara’s interest.

And it’s all her fault.

Pike growls; teeth grit in anger as Covara continues, “It’s just your sort of plucky luck to have a dear companion nearby.” She lets go of him, and Meklavar feels a bit of relief though he falls to the floor in a heap - at least he still has breath. “It is for my benefit.”

Covara closes her eyes and breathes deep, looking altogether unconcerned with her impalement. She reaches back and grabs the hilt without looking, and in one horrifying movement, easily rips the sword from her body.

Black blood drips from the blade, proving the woman is no longer even human.

Meklavar moans as Covara’s boney hands cup her chin Her throat strains as Covara pushes as if to threaten to snap her head from her body.

“I have always wanted to observe how the soul link spell functions, but never have I found two suitable specimens,” Covara continues. Meklavar twists her head, anything to be free of the vice-like grip. “Your love for each other is equally as strong as your quintessence.”

The purple glow returns to Covara’s hand, hovering around Meklavar’s throat.

“The only thing more delicious than your death, is having you serve me _willingly_ ,” an evil grin worms its way up her face. “Which I am sure you will do with the boy’s life tied to yours.”

Meklavar braces for the pain.

It never comes.

Covara falls to the floor, writhing in pain. “Im-impossible! The blade… it was sunforged… _how_?”

A sunforged blade, one of only a handful of weapons capable of harming creatures of the Demon King.

“Just lucky, I guess.” Pike says, his breath louder than his words; she can’t see him but she can hear the smirk in his voice.

Meklavar wouldn’t put it past Pike to know the item’s exact value. How he came in possession of the one thing that can change their fortunes tonight, she doesn’t know and doesn’t care. For now, the corners of her mouth tug up her face in uncontrollable relief. Perhaps they’ll get out of here alive after all.

“Now you’ll know what it’s really like to be one of the Demon King’s minions,” Meklavar says smugly. “You’ll be stuck with them for the rest of time.”

Covara rises - though she stumbles backwards - a purple aura surrounding her. Meklavar can feel the dark energy slowly slip away from this reality. The mercenary guards have had their last straw of magic and take off running at the otherworldly display.

Pike does no such thing. He stays and uses the stone she lays on to lift himself up, flipping a dagger to his hands with skill that looks like magic - ready to fight if needed.

“I will return sooner than you think, _child_ ,” Covara promises; eyes wild and crazed as veins protrude from her body, threatening to explode. She holds a hand outstretched towards Meklavar and the other at Pike. “And I _will_ have your life.”

Dark magic hits Meklavar, clogging her nose so that all she smells is the stench of tar. She chokes for air and can only watch as a thin green wisp of energy travels from her chest and mingles with a blue that she can only guess belongs to Pike.

Instantly, fear overcomes her senses - a fear for _herself_ , sprinkled with idle worry of blood stain devaluing the sword.

 _Pike’s_ feelings.

“With your souls entwined, it will be easy to find you and _use_ you,” Covara says, her voice now more like a hollow echo. Her lips turn up wickedly. “Become as close as you like; for it will be all the more enjoyable to tear you apart.”

She lets out an unearthly shriek, rising from the ground before dissipating; like ink smearing in water.

Silence.

Meklavar huffs, exhausted mentally and emotionally. She rests her eyes, relieved the danger is over.

“Hey, hey, tell me you’re okay.” Pike’s voice.

His concern fills her like a jar overflowing with wine, and a sense of admiration and desperation digs right to her soul.

A soul-link; Covara’s parting gift has ensured she won’t be able to stray too far away from Pike. Not if they both want to live. They’ll share pain and emotions; a ritual usually only ever used by couples in the forest who have been together for decades.

Pike isn’t from the forest. He has no idea what’s been done.

  
“I’m fine,” she says. “Can you get me out of this thing?”

The shackles jingle as Pike begins to fiddle with them. She feels his lightheartedness before he jokes, “What kind of thief do you take me for? I can pick a lock.”

True to his word, she is already freed from the first. It falls back to the stone with a resounding clank. She holds her hand to her chest simple because movement is once again her own. “You don’t have the best track record when it comes to thieving. You almost convinced me you were a _ninja-assassin_ with how terrible you are,” she teases.

Regret. Shame. Fear.

Pike unlocks the last one. Meklavar sits up, glad to be free. No sooner than she does, Pike restricts her with a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so sorry,” he says before she can voice the question. “I thought she’d just imprison you, and I could break you out later. I should have smuggled you out right then and there.”

Meklavar sighs, resting her head on his shoulder and returning the hug. “You did what you thought was right. I’m not blaming you for anything, Pike. You still saved me.”

“You almost died right in front of me,” he chokes. “And it would have been all my fault.”

“Pike…” She wants to tell him it’s okay over and over again. He may not even listen to her words, but he can feel her emotions just as loudly as she can feel his now, so she pours comfort into him. “What were you even doing here?”

He hugs her tighter in response; a thanks.

He chuckles. “What else can a thief do? I was trying to steal the Jewel of Jitan. I’d heard it had gone missing, so I thought I’d try my hand at taking it back.”

Meklavar sinks her teeth into her lip. “You caring fool,” she says, swallowing a sob. “It’s right over there unguarded. You’d better take it.”

“Please, let me hold you for just a little bit,” he insists, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. “Then I’m coming with you wherever you need to go.”

Admiration again. Love.

Warmth fills Meklavar’s cheeks, but not out of embarrassment. She likes this feeling; she likes feeling the same for Pike. Despite Covara’s evil intentions, she doesn’t mind that it’s the goofy thief she can feel the emotions of as long as they’re like _this_.

At least until she can find a way to undo it. Surely there’s something in her family’s library that covers it.

She needs to confirm her family’s fate for herself anyway. For that she _needs_ a friend to be her anchor.

“We can’t part anyway,” she confesses. “The spell she cast on us linked our souls - literally.”

There’s a long pause before Pike lets go of her, his eyes wide. His emotions cycle through confusion and disbelief. “You mean… she wasn’t just saying a bunch of magical mumbo jumbo?

Meklavar snorts, with a renewed love of how easily he amuses her. “It’s exactly _because_ she was saying a bunch of ‘mumbo jumbo’.”

“Oh,” he says simply. A sense of panic rises, reverberating through her soul.

“I’ll see if there’s a way to reverse it,” she explains. “My family has a lot of books on magic.” And there’s one more thing that will help.

Jumping off the stone, Meklavar takes the few steps towards where the object she seeks rests. Gently, she takes the Jewel of Jitan in her hands. The green gem pulses for joy, acknowledging her guardian bloodline.

Salty liquid touches her lips - she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She holds the Jewel close to her chest. Her mission - her reason for leaving home - is complete.

“The Jewel of Jitan isn’t just another pretty gem,” she manages to say through both relief and the weight of her new mission to make sure Covara can’t return. “It’ll bolster the magic of any sorcerer, so we can borrow some power to undo the soul link.” She chuckles darkly, nervously; what if he abhors this situation they’re stuck in or grows to hate her? “I can get pretty moody, I’d hate for you to have to feel all of that.”

He smiles brightly, eyes soft. “There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

Meklavar can feel his every emotion; there is no trace of a lie in that declaration. And she isn’t sure if it’s truly her own or not, but she feels the same.

She takes his hand and meets his trepid gaze, no doubt wondering her reaction.

“Well then, let’s get going. This may have happened maliciously, but I’m looking forward to everything coming out of it.”

Rising on her tiptoes, she greets his cheek with a kiss - a bookend to their time apart. To her amusement, they glow red.

But a grin twitches on his face, and Meklavar is quite content with that response.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
